What Ana Does

Today is a pretty momentous day. I paid off the last of my college student loans. Closing an ugly chapter in my life.  Circa 2001 Loan-wise, I would have been OK if I stayed at the University of Wisconsin - River Falls were I went my freshman and sophomore year. The tuition was within my loan means; I was able to borrow the amount pretty easily. And I got a small stipend to play soccer there. I still had to have on-campus jobs for books and supplies, but it was financially manageable.  But no!  My dream was to work in New York City for Martha Stewart or Jane Pratt and I knew the little Wisconsin state school wasn't going to be a big help getting me there when my classmates were learning to write agriculture reports and about new farming techniques. So, I found the University of Rhode Island through an national exchange program and was able to pay Wisconsin tuition to attend my Junior year there. Well, I loved it and wanted to stay, so Senior year and the half year I had t...

It's 1996. I board a train in St. Paul headed to Rhode Island where I'll be a domestic exchange student (yup, that's a real thing). My boyfriend at the time and sister Liza see me off. I'm a wreck, but I'm confident in my decision to follow my dream and go to college on the east coast. Even though I've never ever been to the east coast. And certainly never ever been to Rhode Island. And I don't even have any family or friends there. It's completely foreign to me. And I've never been on a train before but the ticket to Rhode Island was cheaper than air travel (though, this was pre-google so I had a hard time making that comparison), despite it taking two days of travel. It just sounded more "romantic." So ... I get myself loaded and find a seat and stare out the window and ... I start crying. Sobbing. I sit in the bathroom as the train leaves and I cry harder -- that crying that hurts your belly and produces little whining noises. It...

While we were in Illinois this summer, Dave and I took a night away from the girls and stayed in a hotel in downtown Chicago. We had tickets to see Pearl Jam at Wrigley and just needed a little break from parenting. It's so important to date your husband, right? Marriage is tough. Anyway, it was a pretty awesome night away, with the concert and a delicious dinner without the banter or small kids, but we had been talking about getting tattoos together. Dave got his first tattoo last year after talking about getting one for years -- maybe a decade -- and had been thinking of expanding or getting another one. So we thought, maybe we should get one together, while in Chicago. We get a little crazy when left unsupervised. I woke up the morning before we drove down to Chicago with an idea. Originally, I thought about putting an inspirational quote or powerful word (such as "breath" or "be present"). But that morning I thought about putting our family initials some...

I've been having fun digging through the history of our neighborhood called Passy here in the 16th district. Like every nook and cranny of Paris, it's full of history! Passy is Roughly In That Red Circle The Overview: Before it was swallowed up by the city of Paris in 1860, Passy was just a small village on the outskirts of the capital. As you might know, Paris originated on the two little islands in the Seine River, where the Notre Dame still stands, right around 3rd century BC. It was conquered in 52 BC by the Romans. And the original inhabitants eventually took back their city, and country, and crowned their first king in 987 AC. (I'm just summarizing here, from source .) As Paris prospered and grew, helped by the River Seine, it started to pull in the neighboring villages. Which eventually included Passy to the west. In the mid-1600s, hot springs were discovered in Passy attracting wealthy French and English families who built their country homes here. It...

I've never lived in a 115-year-old building, so I'm a total nerd when it comes to the little clues left by the original builders and owners. For example, in our kitchen there's this nice-sized cabinet that hangs into the courtyard of the building. It's got this vintage little lock on it and sits under one of the two kitchen windows. Windows Are Frosted in Kitchen Because the Courtyard Area isn't Pretty When we were getting the pre-move-in walk-through, the real estate agents joked we could use this cabinet until we got our fridge delivered. Because, yes, this was early refrigeration. A Look Inside Maybe it's because it's winter and the weather has been freezing, but the inside of this cabinet is definitely colder than the rest of the room. The glass and ceramic items we keep in here are chilly to the touch when we pull them out. It would have been a great spot to store cheese, wine maybe, and maybe cream. I'm just guessing. And, sure, I con...

If you were sitting with me right now, your ears would be ringing from the sound of construction on the roof and the hammer drill ripping up tile in the apartment downstairs. (I can now easily identify that awful sound thanks to this summer's fireplace project , when I had to use that machine for a few hours to pull up a small amount of tile from the hearth.) The apartment downstairs is being renovated. We got a peek of it when we had to walk through it to use the servant's entrance to see our gas meter. In the quick tromp through it, I noted the original moldings, the maze of small rooms, a stunning wooden armoire and the cool red and cream square tile on the kitchen floors. All very antique ... and very clear this apartment hasn't been touched in years. Example of red/cream tile that's so common in old French homes (from Manger )** Wires were lying around everywhere, because they're also "installing electricity as part of the renovation." ...

I was here at Round Lake beach in Clifton Park, NY where Alice and I were staying for a week of sightseeing while Leah was at camp in the Berkshires. This was my view when my cell rang and David gave me the news: he got the Paris assignment; we're moving to Paris. Of course I wanted to jump and holler and cartwheel and high-five everyone on the beach, but we decided to keep the news under wraps. Let's not tell the girls yet, either. Even though we'd been talking about it in an abstract, "maybe someday" kind of way since he interviewed for the job in May. But we needed to review the offer and accept first. Wait until it was official before spilling the beans. So instead, I squealed into the phone while Alice was out of earshot. And walked into the lake as far as I could go and told the water: "Hi, I'm going to live in Paris. This has been my dream for years. And now we're going. We're going to live in Paris." Even as the words left my...

I have a treasured memory of walking across the public library lawn on a sunny but slightly chilly November day in 1984 holding my Mom's hand. The reason I know this date is because we were heading to the polling place to vote for Walter Mondale for President. I was only 8-years-old, but I remember clearly the feelings of that afternoon. Mom was jubilant. Excited. Proud. She was voting for a female vice president - Geraldine Ferraro. This was big. I think she may have even been a bit teary. Maybe my hazy memory is just upping the drama. I really should ask her about it. She was voting for a woman in a presidential election, can you imagine!? The only talk I can recall is her teaching me not to tell anyone who you're voting for; it was a secret. And my elementary-school brain LOVED secrets. Anyway, she was so happy we might have gotten a treat at Dairy Queen afterwards, but, again, I might just be making that part up. I am beyond excited/proud/jubilant to take MY...

I was a princess AND a ballerina. And I'm pretty sure my Mom made this costume, even though my baby sister would have been 1 month old. (How Did She Do It All?!) And I hope I didn't give her too much of a hard time about the white turtleneck. Halloween 1979 Also, that's my Great-Grandpa Jack looking very impressed by my costume in the background. He lived up the street and seemed to enjoy the chaos of my little family. I believe my older sister was a clown. Also a handmade costume. Related links: More History posts 

Leah in the Blacksmith House Today I did something I've never done before ... I was a real field trip chaperone. It's something I've always wanted to do. And I never could get the time off of work or get my act together quick enough to plan it out. There have been a lot of field trip opportunities over the years of daycare and school. And they beg me to come along or be that mom at the classroom holiday party, but it's not usually possible, mainly because I hear about it at the very last-minute. Or I just can't get the time off. But this time Leah's third grade teacher sent the request for chaperones in October! With three months notice, and a January date when I have all my vacation/personal days to spend, I jumped on it. Leah was thrilled! This Cabin is Older Than ME!  This field trip was to a park nearby that recreates the experience of the early settlers in the prairies. There was a log cabin, a blacksmith shop, an estate house with a workin...

was a pretty good day. I married my best friend in front of all my family and friends. We ate, we danced, we gazed out at the grey Atlantic ocean just outside the windows of the lovely, historic Narragansett Towers. Yeah, it was a pretty good day. My beautiful Mom and handsome brother walked me down the aisle at around 11am -- and I still can't believe I made it without sobbing. An adorable and friendly Rabbi married us under the huppah decorated with fresh daisies by some friends earlier that morning.  It wasn't sunny, just overcast enough to make the day a little silvery, which was fine with me. It made the pictures, taken by a photog friend of ours, a little more shadowy and dramatic. We had a little cocktail hour with a mountain of delicious cheeses, grapes and crackers (I was big on having a mountain of crudités). Lunch was buffet-style fish and fresh veggies. (No, I didn't get the omelet bar that I wanted.) A bottle of Spanish Rioja was on every table. We danced...

Because I'm raising sisters, I love to share stories of my three sisters (and brother) growing up. I tell them about how Mom used to pull our hair sooooo tight in braids we'd have tears in our eyes, and the bunk beds my sister Carol and I used to hide from the alligators in our closet. Car vacations and Christmas and the times we all played soccer in the backyard and Maggie would end up crying. They LOVE these stories almost as much as hearing about their own births and name (don't ask me why). And they're fun for me, too. My Family, Me Second From Left So I was delighted to find I was doing something GOOD for them by reminiscing! (Score one for me!) There's an article this month in The Atlantic that highlights the research on family storytelling, and all the benefits to children. They're pretty awesome and include understanding emotions, advanced narrative skills, high self-esteem and self-concepts. Here's a sample: Over the last 25 years, a s...